


"You fight good."

by mmmelmoth



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Cause that's what the fandom needs right now), Chemistry, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Flirting, Lesbians, Natoye? Is there a ship name?, Nobody is Dead, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Power Dynamics, Wakanda forever, except none of the deeply traumatizing things happened, happiness, those two have it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 06:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmelmoth/pseuds/mmmelmoth
Summary: The title is a reference to Disney's Mulan, where a skilled fighter tries to tell another skilled fighter they have a crush on them. Well. The tags pretty much sum it up. I love my gals Natasha and Okoye, and seeing as they didn't get that much screen time, at least here they spend some quality time together.





	"You fight good."

 

"Miss Romanoff! I hope you are staying for the feast." T'Challa approached Black Widow with an honest smile, and she turned. "Yes. I wouldn't want to miss out on the delicacies of Wakanda." She'd curled her hair and put on a black dress once the battle was won and the infinity stones destroyed. Everyone was gathering in the throne hall, where a buffet was being prepared.

"You've seen how technologically advanced we are, now imagine how much more we have to offer in terms of food!" Shuri chimed in. She was beaming, having done her part to save the universe, and her new converse were a bright pink. "I figured." Natasha smiled at the sight of those utterly different and yet united siblings. "So, what happened with the, uh, problematic purple grape after Mantis put him to sleep and Stark flew him in?"

T'Challa's back straightened with contentment. "M'Baku and I saw him to his prison here in Wakanda. With the stones destroyed, he is no more than a choleric scaremonger, easy for us to keep in check."

"Thank you for taking all of us in, anyway." "It is my pleasure, Miss Romanoff. My sister will show you around." With a bow, T'Challa disappeared to mingle with the crowd of celebrating people.

"Now, I must say, I'm a fan, Miss Romanoff." Shuri grinned up at Black Widow, who she'd first seen on a recording of the battle of New York when she was younger, and admired ever since. "Please, it's Natasha, like I've told your brother many times." They started making their way through the hall, Shuri heading unerringly towards the buffet. Once they arrived, she started heaping her plate with delicious-looking snacks. "So, _Natasha,_ " Shuri eyed the bowls and plates in front of her to decide whether she should take more or not. “Yes?” The knowing smiles and twinkling eyes of the young princess were irritating, and of course there was no way to get in on whatever she found so amusing. “Have you met Okoye of the King’s Guard?” “I think we fought together.” “That must’ve been quite the scenario. She’s over there, by the beverages,” Natasha followed Shuri’s nod and spotted the bald-headed warrior she met on the battlefield. “Let’s not leave her standing there all alone.”

Okoye didn’t look alone at all. She looked watchful and proud, like she was supervising the crowd and utterly at peace with her position. Natasha, who was used to feeling superior even to figures of authority felt a wave of awe rush up in her at the look of this woman, who didn’t seem like anyone who was to be casually approached – which was exactly what Shuri was doing. Surprised by her emotions, Natasha followed her lead. “Okoye! Over here!” Shuri waved and jumped a little to distinguish herself from the crowd. Okoye spun around, and a warm smile replaced her resolute expression. “Princess! I haven’t seen you since all of this mayhem went down. Congratulations on extracting the stone.” Laughing, Shuri made a flicking motion over her shoulder, as if her actions had been child’s play. “Okoye, this is Natasha Romanoff. She is the Black Widow.”

For the first time, Okoye’s rigorous eye fell onto the blonde woman behind Shuri, and she studied her with an unnerving patience. Black Widow held her stance, staring back calmly, knowing she looked stunning this evening and that her first impression on the battlefield had even exceeded expectations. “Pleasure,” was all Okoye had to contribute. “The pleasure’s mine.” Natasha shot back, extending a hand, but Okoye crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was still wearing her traditional fighting gear, but it was party-appropriate enough. So Natasha replied with the same gesture she knew meant _Wakanda forever_.

“Sweet!” Shuri exclaimed, and turned to leave, “I’ll leave you to it!”

If she wasn’t mistaken, Natasha could have sworn she watched Okoye mouth “To what?” at the princess’ back. Then Okoye’s attention went back to the former assassin facing her. “Black Widow? You chose that name for yourself?”

“I chose neither name nor reputation, but I decided what to do with it.” Natasha replied calmly.

“You decided to fight aliens.” Though not a muscle in Okoye’s face moved, the edge to her tone suggested humour. Nat raised her chin just a little. “When there’s an opportunity to, sure. If not, I fight human bad guys.” “Let’s hope they don’t stand a chance like the extraterrestrial ones.” “Are you trying to say I fight good?” “I’m saying it. _You fight good._ ”

Natasha had a hard time accepting the compliment with Okoye looking down on her, yet she refused to take a step back in order to be more on eye level. “So do you.”

“We made an impressive team,” Okoye pressed her full lips together and gave Natasha – who was waiting for a hint of sarcasm in vain – a relaxed smile. She went on: “Even without any practise.” Patiently and unwilling to let her guard down, Natasha held Okoye’s gaze, until someone tapped her shoulder.

“White Wolf.” Okoye smiled. “James!” Natasha turned and allowed a broad smile to take over her face. They hugged. “You look well!” She told him. “And you look _stunning_.” He let one of her curls bounce off his right hand and grinned at her. It felt like she’d been reunited with a long-lost brother. “Why am I not surprised to see the two of you together?” Bucky asked, addressing the both of them, “Of course the two most dangerous women in Wakanda find each other and team up.” “You should have seen us on the battlefield.” Okoye replied with a small smile that looked almost … proud?

“Yeah, I was a little busy there.” Bucky smiles, “I made friends with an engineered raccoon.” He points over to one of the chocolate fountains where T’Challa is wrestling a screaming ball of fur out of the lowest, chocolate-flooded basin. “You should keep an eye on him. He’ll try to steal everything he can get his paws on.” “Thank you for the hint.” Okoye furrows her brows at the look of this unlikely scenario. After briefly scanning the room, Bucky excused himself: “I just spotted Steve. I’ll be over there.” “It was great seeing you, James.” Natasha smiled at him.

“You too, Nat. Okoye.” And he disappeared into the crowd, the reflection of the dawning sunlight on his metal arm telling them where he was headed.

“Hair like that must be impractical while fighting.” Okoye wondered, and turned to Nat: “You must know. You have hair, you fight.” A smile danced around Natasha’s lips thanks to the simple bluntness of the question. “Well, I like it this way. Besides, I’m not always fighting, I’m also a representative and I need to look the part.” “Are you saying I do not look the part?” “You do. You look great. But, you know, some of us prefer their heads un-exposed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Okoye smiled at Natasha. “I’m not sure whether that’s a fact I can simply accept.” “It isn’t gonna change much.” She received as a reply.  “Are you not going to join your friends?” Okoye asked after a moment of them standing there in silence.

“No. If you don’t mind. They all seem sufficiently preoccupied.” Natasha’s eyes wandered over the crowd; she spotted Tony pulling Peter Parker, the boy in the Spider-suit, close and ruffling his hair, Steve and Bucky standing so close that they could’ve been mistaken for Siamese Twins while Sam threw his head back in a laugh, Vision and Wanda sitting at a table a bit away from the crowd, engrossed in a conversation. “I don’t mind.” Finding her own friends in the crowd – T’Challa shaking hands with Peter Quill, Shuri and Nakia bickering near the buffet – Okoye replied peacefully and studied Agent Romanoff’s expression. She seemed distant, yet not taken aback or jealous not to be included in any of her friends’ activities, and mostly she just looked shockingly, absolutely in control of herself. Okoye’d never seen that trait in any person who wasn’t part of the Wakandan King’s Guard.

“Should we get drinks?” Natasha interrupted her line of thought.

“I’m no fan of alcohol.”

“I am. People’s tongues get loose and they think you won’t care or remember. It’s like getting to see them unwrapped without having to do any of the work yourself.”

“So you want to unwrap me, Miss Romanoff?” Okoye joked.

“It’s Natasha. And I just wanna have a nice time.” The blonde woman hailed a waiter and took one of the orange cocktails. When the waiter offered one for Okoye too, she wrinkled her brow and resigned: “None for me.”

 

* * *

 

For what remained of the evening, they stayed a duo. As the hours passed by, the halls grew emptier and emptier, until all remaining guests were either drunk, tired, or both. But Natasha felt like she’d just woken up. Maybe meeting Okoye had been her waking moment. She’d stopped scanning the room for people to converse with forever ago, she liked her place.

With a look at the time, Okoye looked down at Natasha in an almost caring way. “The sun rises in four hours. There are guest quarters assigned to you if you still want to get some sleep.” Natasha caught her eyes with a mischievous smile. “You wanna get rid of me now? You sure took your time.” “I don’t. But my guarding shift starts in five minutes.”

“Neat. What do you guard?” Every time Natasha spoke, Okoye got the feeling that the slur of her words and the cocked eyebrows weren’t in the slightest caused by the vodka and cocktails the Black Widow had consumed, but rather still a conscious decision of hers, for whatever reason.

“The king’s chambers.” “If you really don’t want me gone, I could guard them with you.” Nat offered, putting down an empty glass. “No, Miss Romanoff, I do not want you gone. Follow me then.” “ _It’s still Natasha_.”

They went up several flights of intricate wooden stairs in silence. When they finally stopped after walking down a monstrous hallow hallway, Natasha nodded her head. “That’s what I’d expect royal chambers to look like from the outside. So you just stand here all night?”

“I do. I’m more reliable than technology.”

“I bet.” Nat leaned against the ebony wall, peering at Okoye in the dark, “So this monarchy is worth it?” Okoye, who still stood watchfully still in the middle of the hallway like a metal statue, felt a smile dance around her lips. “It is.” “Never dreamt of a democracy?”

Gracefully, Okoye spun around, her spear at her side: “A monarchy with a king who acts according to his people’s interest is infinitely more democratic than a democracy whose leaders care about no one’s well being but their own.”

Raising her chin, Natasha smirked. “Who said that?” “Ancestors.” “I’ll tell both my home countries to take some notes.”

A sly and husky sound escaped Okoye’s mouth that couldn’t right away be identified as a short laugh. “Oh! You’re allowed and able to laugh, I wasn’t sure.” Cocking an eyebrow, Natasha showed her teeth in a smile. Okoye retorted: “I’m allowed to do whatever I please. I heard it’s different where you’re from.”  

“Yeah, me and the government we’re not like that any more-“ Holding up two intertwined fingers, Nat gave a shrug, “Now I have to break their rules. That’s what I get for outing a secret nazi organisation.” “I heard about that. So this is what you do for fun?” “I do lots of things for fun.” Nat grinned, but Okoye ignored it: “That must be tough. I do things for my country. It feels more rewarding.” “Like threatening to kill your husband and dumping him? Yeah, _I heard about that_.”

“Does that make you feel like you know me?”

“Just wait ‘til you figure out that you yourself are the most rewarding thing you’ll ever get. Not your king, not your country.”

Okoye inched closer, placing her face right in front of Natasha’s. “Hedonism has never appealed to me, Miss Romanoff-“ “Natasha.” “- and I have myself sufficiently figured out to know that dedication is the single thing worth living for.” “That’s you and me both.” Natasha retorted, narrowing her eyes and staring back at her opposite, whose hands still clutched the intricate Wakandan spear. Out of the blue, Natasha briefly licked her lips and proposed, not breaking eye contact: “We should go for coffee some time.”

Taking a step back, Okoye’s shoulders relaxed. “I heard that’s what you colonizers do when you have a romantic interest in someone.”

“Well, what do you do?” Everything about Nat and that statement was meant to be provocative and Okoye knew it. Natasha Romanoff was one of the people who lived to provoke, who bent the limits and watched the consequences of their actions wreak havoc on their surroundings with a smile on their face, who sensed opportunities and always came out on top. That’s as much as she’d let Okoye see, and it was intriguing enough to the warrior, who was so used to being in control. What Okoye saw in Natasha was a challenge, because she couldn’t possibly tell what it was the Black Widow saw in her. So she leaned in, lowering her eyes.

In a low voice, she answered: “We do _this_.” Natasha’s lips were warmer than her own as she pushed her against the palace wall in a fluid motion. She thought she felt her smirk, but had no time to waste on that thought because once the Black Widow kissed back, she did not do so patiently.


End file.
